(~6 minutes to read)

News item: Barnstaple’s pink seagull is ‘talk of the town’

This is the fourth story in the ongoing saga of the Gull family. All have been inspired by stories about gulls on the BBC’s website. Although this instalment stands on its own, you may want to read “Previously on Gullsville…” below before wading through the ordure that is Gullsville Episode IV—a New Trope.

After swearing off brewery waste for the rest of his life, Gary Gull had a hole in his social life that needed filling.

The brewery waste (and some no-good guy gulls) had got him riotously drunk, and he knew that he needed to stay away from “trouble” if his mother and stepfather (one Kyle Kittiwake) were going to tolerate him continuing to live with them in their one room oil drum in a corner of the local landfill.

With all the enthusiasm of a teenager being required to kick his Fortnite habit, Gary sought a new outlet to express his youthful exuberance and decided that a change of appearance might help him fit in with a different crowd.

He was fairly sure that piercings might affect his aerodynamics, so he passed on the rings, chains and such. And he was unable to find a tattooist who was prepared to work on him—something to do with how the ink would behave in feathers—so when he saw a Gull Pride gathering (not that he yet knew its name), he felt compelled to investigate.

The landfill that formed Gary’s backyard had a hazardous waste section, where items such as household cleaners, used motor oil, Trump speech transcripts, and paint could be dropped off.

A small screech of gulls had congregated around the paint section and were showing great interest in the aerosols. Some of them were activating the cans while others flapped in the spray, transforming themselves from greyscale gulls into gloriously coloured creatures that could compete with peacocks, parrots and birds of paradise in their brilliance. There were reds and yellows, pinks and purples, blues and oranges. Some of the gulls were sticking to one or two colours, while others were flapping around in an orgy of acrylic alkyd colour.

When the paint ran out, they huffed the propellant.

Gary watched, totally mesmerized. He’d never seen such uninhibited, seemingly harmless fun! Those were his peeps—he’d found his niche!

Gary waddled over to the gathering and tried to attract the attention of a neon green girl gull.
“Can I join in?” he squawked.

“Sure! More the merrier!” replied Qaitl’nnn (for that’s how she spelled “Katelyn” (or was it “Kaitlynne”?)) “The only rule is you have to operate the can for others before you can get sprayed yourself.”

“Sounds good! May I… could I spray you? That neon violet would go with the green really nicely!”

“Wow! A guy who sees in more than sixteen colours and knows his colour combinations!” teased Qaitl’nnn. “But don’t go thinking you’re gonna get lucky with me though.”

“I wouldn’t dare!” replied Gary. “Mum said, ‘stay out of trouble, and don’t bring trouble home.’ so I’m just looking for a fun crowd to hang out with.”

“Okay. Well, Gull Pride might be the fun crowd you’re looking for,” said Qaitl’nnn positioning herself in front of the overturned violet spray can. “Now, pump that paint, dude!”

With a strength that mere humans would have thought impossible for a gull, Gary pushed the entire spray can against a wall, causing the valve to open and paint to spray over Qaitl’nnn. She danced and gyrated, exposing the parts of her body that hadn’t been sprayed green. Watching her move in this way, Gary felt a sensation in his cloaca that he’d never felt before.

As the spray subsided, Qaitl’nnn flapped her wings to speed up the drying process. Gary stared at Qaitl’nn and saw her in a whole new way. Meanwhile, Qaitl’nn was keen to experience a huffing high, and encouraged Gary to activate the now-paintless spray can again. She crouched down, inhaled deeply, and moved away quickly as a spatter of paint hit her face.

“I have to ask,” said Gary. “Why is it called ‘Gull Pride’?”

“Well,” replied Qaitl’nnn, her eyes rolling up into her head slightly, “we’re all gulls, right…”

“Yes, although my stepfather’s a kittiw…”

“And we want to give the impression we’re strong and fierce, like lions, right…”

“But lions aren’t multi-col…”

“And a large group of lions is called…”

“A pride. I know that, but what has the spray paint got to do with all that?”

“Bugger all, to be honest,” said Qaitl’nnn. “We just want to huff the propellant, but you have to empty the can first, and then we realized that spraying ourselves with the paints makes us stand out in the crowd, so paint sprays are a win-win for us.”

“So, basically, you’re just a bunch of brightly-coloured junkies…” said Gary, his voice trailing off as he realized he was one huff away from trouble.

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” said Qaitl’nnn, “but yes.”

“And I thought Gull Pride was going to be my salvation!” said Gary, the frustration and anger showing in his voice. “I need to get out of here…”

There was an awkward pause in the conversation.

Eventually, Qaitl’nn said, “D’ya wanna come back to my place?”

Gary hesitated.

“All right,” he said.

(And if Monty Python can get away with finishing their sketches with that line, then so can I!)

Previously in Gullsville…

(This potted summary is for people who haven’t read previous instalments of the Gull family chronicles)

It all started with a BBC news report about a gull being “rescued” from a discarded tray of curry. Gullsville Episode I—The Phantom Masala has the gull complaining to his long-suffering wife about do-gooders interrupting his post-skinful curry; the episode ends with Mr. & Mrs. Gull returning to the curry tray for a moonlit meal for two.

A few weeks later, the BBC reported difficulties being experienced by a mail carrier—he or she was being dive-bombed by aggressive seagulls. In unrelated news, the BBC had reported the Finnish postal organization diversifying into lawnmowing. In Gullsville Episode II—Attack of the Drones, these stories somehow mingled with the saga of Mr. and Mrs. Gull, the former of whom was one of the ringleaders of the mail carrier harassment squadron. Unfortunately, he met his doom at the blades of a lawnmower being operated by the harassed mail carrier. A kittiwake named Kyle broke the news to Mrs. Gull and ended up moving in with her to help raise her now-fatherless eggs.

More recently, there were reports of gulls getting drunk from feeding on brewery waste. It turned out that one of Mr. & Mrs. Gull’s eggs (Gary by name) was among the drunkards. Gullsville Episode III—Revenge of the Grist chronicled his mother’s and stepfather’s reaction to Gary’s inebriation, and ended with a very old joke.

You’re now ready to read Gullsville Episode IV—a New Trope.